First and Final
by The Amazing Wonder Ninja
Summary: what if A knew L? what if they were friends...until that fateful night.
1. Chapter 1

Ryan Lawliet looked contemplatively at the kindly old man. His gaze was piercing for a twelve year old, and his eyes managed to detract somewhat from his hair- someone had given him a cropped cut with short bangs in an attempt to tame the fourteen cowlicks covering his head. The end result was rather horrifying- it stuck straight up in every direction. He looked thoughtfully into the air, considering what Mr. Wammy had said.

"Well? Have you chosen your alias?"

"Yes." He nodded once, beginning to slouch.

"And that would be?"

"Ryuzaki Ryuga."

The old man said nothing, but wrote the name down in the boy's file.

"L.L." he remarked, once finished. Ryuzaki now in full slouch mode, tilted his head to the side, and stared intently at the ceiling.

"So it would seem…"

**---[Before]---**

---[ A ]---

L was a very interesting person. Contrary to popular belief, there was not L, then the Wammy house. No. The Wammy house was created to cultivate genius. Genius of any sort. L came to the orphanage six months after myself. We were both the same age. It was not until L was sixteen, and bought out the Wammy house, that it became singularly driven to create successors to L. But I pride myself in being the sole one who truly knew L, until he left the house at the age of fifteen and ten months. He was my first and final friend, and I his. I will never forget the day I met L.

---[memories]---

It was a Thursday. I was alone in one of the hidden corridors in the attic, when I heard voices yelling. I crouched low behind a dusty wooden desk, peering out into the room. The hatch in the floor opened, briefly flooding the room with light. A scrawny boy, about my age, is shoved into the room, followed by one of the older students and one of his friends. The first kicked the boy in the back of his knee, causing him to fall to the floor, where the second kicked him in the stomach. I narrowed my eyes. Just because he was new didn't mean they had to prove their superiority. They did the same thing to me on my first day…time for a little payback, ne? I take advantage of their lack of awareness, and don't even bother to be stealthy as I walk up to the first thug from behind. The other is too preoccupied to notice, so I (being tall for my age) catch the first with a carotid choke. He goes limp within seconds, and the second, hearing him crumple, turns to face me. Before he can say a word, I get him behind the knees, like his friend had done to the kid on the floor, and kick him in the stomach.

"Once…is once!" I yell, and kick him in the groin. They'll be down for a while. I help the kid up, and lead him back down the hatch, into the main hall.

"Thank you." He smiled, scratching the back of his head. I smiled back.

"No problem. Wanna go get some lunch? The cooks made really brilliant cake." He brightens immediately, straightening up by a fraction of an inch.

"Cake?"

L and his cake. From that moment onward, he was never seen without a piece of cake.

"I'm A. Well, that's my letter, anyway. My alias is Alex. They're training me to be a forensic anthropologist. What about you?" I wipe a stray blob of icing from my plate and lick it off my finger.

" L. That's my letter. It stands for Ryuzaki. They say I'm going to be the world's best detective. I hope they teach us some form of martial arts. I like kick boxing somewhat."

"So you're Japanese? I should have guessed. So because in Japanese there's no letter L, you had to use 'r'."

"I don't see why we have to use aliases. If we are going to be famous, why not let people know we exist?" L complained, taking a bite of strawberry. I smile again.

"Hey, I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours." His eyes immediately snap up from his cake, and he looks me directly in the eyes. I meet his gaze, trying to seem friendly, even though the hairs on the back of my neck are prickling. He…doesn't blink…. Can he see through me? It's like he can see into my soul…freaky…. Finally, he seems satisfied with his inspection. His eyes twinkle mischievously, and he smiles.

"Sure." He lowers his voice to a whisper. "I'm Ryan Lawliet."

"Adrian. Adrian Goodman."

The L you know is not the L I knew. As we grew older, pressure made L flatten. His personality grew dull and he became obsessed with facts and puzzles and numbers. He became paranoid, and would hardly ever come out of his room, save for the times he ran out of cake. Occasionally, on rainy nights he would sit in the bell tower, and come back soaked and dripping. He could never sleep. One night, three years after I met him the first time, I waited up for him, and it was three thirty am before he returned.

"Ryan!" I hissed, hidden in a closet so Wammy wouldn't find me. "Where were you? I've been waiting for hours!"

He whips around, his intense gaze, now ringed by dark black circles, caught me off guard. My breath catches in my throat. "Don't call me that, _Adrian." _He spits at me, wrenching his door open, nearly catching me in the face. He snatches a suitcase from under the bed and begins haphazardly shoving jeans and t-shirts and books into it. So many books- who knew he had so many books? Abnormal psychology, Freud, Jung, Paramilitary Interrogation Techniques, even Sherlock Holmes!

"I'm not Ryan, I'm L! We're not people we're just a letter, that's all we are and nothing more!" he mutters.

"R-Ryuzaki, what-?" he zips the suitcase and heads for the door. I block the exit.

"What're you doing, L? Where are you going? I'm your best friend, you cant just go someplace and not tell me." His eyes unfocused, and he stares vacantly out the window and into the relentless torrent. It is silent, spare the steady drip from his hair onto the floor.

"I'm leaving. There's nothing left for me here anymore."

"What? L? J-just sit down. You're tired. You should get some rest and think this over in the morning. Now, go get a towel. You'll catch cold if you just stand there dripping." His eyes re-focus and narrow, slicing me with a look. My resolve falters.

"No. Get out of the way, A."

I do as he says, and I follow him outside into the rain. He doesn't look back once. I stop him just as he reaches the front gate.

"L."

He turns back to me, as if daring me to try and stop him. I smile weakly at him, tears stinging my eyes, though I try to hold them back.

"Goodbye."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_sigh. That was pretty awful, wasn't it? I'm horrible with friendly situations. I chose Ryan as L's real first name because: Take 'Ryuzaki' and add a top to the u. you get Rya. Then, flip the z on its side: N. So, it's Rya__N__ aki. Aki, in Japanese, means 'vacancy'…sort of like the vacant, thoughtful expression usually worn by L. _

_Still, L's leaving was a bit too…Mello-ish for my liking. Maybe Mello's more like L than we thought??? (sweatdrop) lame excuse. I'll just say L had a mental breakdown from lack of sleep. I might edit this and make it be Matt's pov, about Mello. Who knows… _


	2. Chapter 2

---[A]---

**---[After]---**

The rain poured. My knees hurt. I was sitting on the soaked ground, weeping for all I was worth. Which wasn't much, apparently.

…

My best friend just left me. And I couldn't stop him. I barely even tried. He was gone.

"_I'm leaving. There's nothing left for me here anymore." _

Three years of friendship…why did I ever think that meant something to him? Maybe before he introverted completely. But not now. Nothing mattered to him now except being L, the world's greatest detective.

I'm happy for him. I really am. He's found his calling, and he's good- no, bloody _brilliant_ at it. As opposed to me, the supposed 'legendary forensic anthropologist' who's failing anatomy class.

Legendary.

Yeah, right.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the two months prior to L's sixteenth birthday, he earned more money than most people earn in a year. He put away twenty-five murderers, thieves, and mob members in that short amount of time, and after three years, I understand why we use aliases.

If he had a real name, he'd be dead. he'd have so many hit men after him that he'd die in five seconds of stepping out the door. No, he'd just catch them, and earn another two million dollars.

…

It was November twelfth the day Wammy, now called Watari, contacted Roger, the petulant man who replaced Wammy as head of the orphanage when Wammy left to find L. it was the first I'd heard of my friend since he'd left and I was excited. Would we get to talk? I was currently number one out of all the others, after deciding to give up on my anthropology goal and taking up astrophysics. If I don't get to talk to L, who will? They called me to the office at two forty seven in the afternoon.

Did they let me talk to L?

No.

They stole my identity again.

A. I am still A. A for Alex? No.

A for _Alternate. _As in, L's alternate, should a hit man someday succeed in his mission. I am Alternate, the L wannabe. No more studying the stars, just facts, facts, and more facts. Psychology, laws, sociology. Psychopathology. I don't even have a me anymore. Just a him. A letter.

A? or L? Who am I really supposed to be?

"_We're not people we're just a letter, that's all we are and nothing more!"_

If only L knew the half of it.

A, B, C, D.

Alex, Beyond, Cassidy, Derik.

Alternate, Backup, Copy, Duplicate.

L.

Ryuzaki.

The Law. The Leader, the longed for original.

I call him Lucky. He'll never have to know this feeling…what it's like to be the _Alternate._

In the office, L knew I was there. The L on the screen was cold and hard. His voice was scrambled. He did nothing to acknowledge my existence. Was there anything left of my friend?

…

Six months passed like seconds ticking life away. There is nothing but information to be learned and the letter that stole our freedoms from us. I can see the others slipping, little by little. B goes wild for attention and throws himself into his work with such velocity that he makes mistakes. He looks like L a little more each day. He barely eats at all, save for strawberry jam and sugary coffee. C has no motivation at all, pushed to her limit by the school. She constantly breaks down. And D is violent.

Am I slipping?

Is there even enough of me still in me to be slipping? Or am I just A? the Alternate? Nothing more, good for nothing but waiting for my best friend to die, so I can steal his identity like he's stolen mine? Will A become L or will L become A? No, L could never be the Alternate.

So I am L, yet I am no one. L is L and I am not L yet, if ever. I am no one. The alternate becomes L, and without L the Alternate is no one. I am not L, therefore I am without L.

No one does not exist.

I don't exist.

So why am I living, if I'm no one? In life I am nothing, so in death will I be something? What do I want to be?

A detective. I want to be L.

No. They told me that. What did I used to want to be?

I cant remember.

_Dong._

The bell rings once.

_Dong._

Twice. Two am.

…

It begins to rain.

I stand, and walk to my door, and walk invisibly down the hall and out into the rain.

_Invisibly._

I climb the narrow spiral stairs to the top of the bell tower, counting seconds in my head. I sit in the windowsill, my legs dangling over the edge and out into space. The rain seeps into my soul. The seconds become minutes, become hours.

Four am, twelve minutes, twenty-four seconds.

The exact time L left me.

_Alternate._

One nonexistent being, one out of so many others. There is a Backup. There is a Copy, a Duplicate. Alternate doesn't exist.

The rain falls.

And I shall fall with it.

I pull my legs back into the bell tower, and sit with my back to the outside world. I close my eyes.

And let go.

…

The fall is graceful. My hair whips in the air, and I briefly open my eyes. A single star shines through the clouds.

In that moment, I exist. I am Adrian, the astrophysicist.

But if no one sees you, were you ever really there?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_ah, yes. I'm much more satisfied with this chapter. I am so much better at writing angsty-ness than happy stuff. You can really see A slipping, even if he's a bit redundant. He doesn't realize he is, though. Poor, poor, A. in the death note world, death is nothingness. I just had to make L and A be friends, though. No one ever does that! Really- what would drive you to suicide more, hate or the loss of your only friend, and your identity? I hope no one reading this is a shrink…(paranoid moment)_

_next chappie- L! what does he think of his friend's suicide? Wait and see…._

_*and I admit- I did not create the A B C D thing. I copied it. Whoever created it takes full credit. _


End file.
